


Alters

by naasad



Series: Originally Posted on FFN [34]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, DID!Tim Drake, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Jack and Janet Drake's A+ Parenting, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-11 15:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: Damian learns Tim has DID and decides to find out why. After all, it's Robin's duty to protect the entire family.





	1. Chloe I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I did my research, but I do not have Dissociative Identity Disorder and this is a work of fiction, so please don't take everything I say as fact.

Damian looked up as Drake entered the kitchen, sharp retort already on his tongue, before Grayson interrupted.

"Hey, Chloe," Dick said. "Tim finally take a break?"

Damian frowned. Chloe? Perhaps Drake was genderfluid? But Grayson had referred to him in the same sentence.

'Chloe' shrugged and smiled. " _Finally_ , yes. I've been trying to get out for about a week. I'm going to get us some actual food and then try and take a nap before someone else fronts."

Grayson nodded. "Have you met Damian yet?"

Chloe shook their head. "No, I haven't, I've wanted to, though. JJ thinks he's a threat that needs to be taken out, but I think there's just a whole lot of misunderstandings going on, to be honest. Hi, Damian." They waved. "I'm Chloe, I'm one of Tim's alters. Hopefully, you'll be seeing a lot more of me, since I'm one of the few who  _actually_  knows how to take care of this body." They rolled their eyes, but there was a touch of fondness.

Damian frowned. "Alters?"

Chloe nodded. "We have Dissociative Identity Disorder. Tim had a pretty bad childhood, so we became a system. Sam and I share the duties of organizer and then there's JJ. You've met him, but he likes to pretend to be Tim. He just thinks it's what's best for all of us. We also have a few littles, but they're pretty shy. You probably won't meet Em until she's a little older, and you probably won't ever meet Ben."

Damian glanced at Grayson, who smiled and explained.

"Tim doesn't like to talk about his parents, he loved them, but they weren't exactly great. His mind split itself into several different people just to protect him from… not them, but definitely the results of their actions."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Then that's because of them."

Grayson shrugged. "It's complicated, but I think we can agree they weren't good people. Anyways, I think Chloe's been around the longest, right?"

Chloe looked up from the sandwich she was making and nodded. "Yep, as far as I remember, I've been around since Tim was about five, and Ben came shortly after. JJ's the newest, he's been around for only four years or so."

"Are any of you dangerous?" Damian demanded.

Chloe gave him a Look. "We're  _all_  dangerous, just like Tim's dangerous, and you're dangerous, and Dick is dangerous, and Bruce is dangerous, too. But we're only a danger to those who deserve it. Our system exists to protect Tim, not to say we don't have our own lives, dreams, desires, but that's what we're here for. If Tim's in danger, we're going to be a danger right back. That's how you met JJ. You attacked Tim, and he came out to protect him and all the rest of us, just like he did all those years ago."

Dick flinched, and Damian's attention snapped to him.

"What happened?"

Dick glanced at Chloe for permission, then nodded to himself. "Tim was captured, tortured, and brainwashed by the Joker. We spent months looking for him, and finally found him as Joker Junior. It didn't end well. Joker ordered him to shoot Bruce, and JJ came out for the first time, shooting the Joker instead, and almost killing him. We thought JJ was Joker Junior for the longest time, that Tim was still brainwashed, just because of the  _name_. We locked him up and did test after test, and JJ stayed out because he thought we were going to hurt Tim.

"He was… not cooperative." He winced. "I mean, he was  _traumatized_  just as much as Tim, and here we were, bringing out the handcuffs and the needles. Eventually, Tim, Sam, and Chloe managed to come out and explain what was going on. Bruce still doesn't trust JJ completely, just because he's paranoid. The worst part is that because of the way we handled it, JJ assumes that's how everyone  _else_  will react, so he just pretends to be Tim. Alfred's the only one who can tell them apart now, not even Bruce can. Because JJ's afraid of us." Dick smiled sadly at Damian. "Does it make sense now why I've been urging you to apologize with your  _words_?"

Damian thought for a moment, then turned to Chloe. "I… apologize. I was… insecure… in the fact that Drake had everything I ever wanted, including my father's…  _trust_ , and I decided to belittle and attack him. I was in the wrong."

Chloe smiled and saluted, dumping her plate in the sink. "I'll relay the message. Now, if you'll excuse me, this body needs some sleep.

Dick nodded, then as Chloe left, he turned to Damian and mouthed  _'I'm proud of you.'_


	2. Tim I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is on a mission

"How does it work?" Damian asked, not bothering to open his eyes as Drake intruded on his meditation. And it was Drake - unlike his father and other siblings, he'd learned to tell all the differences.

Tim frowned. "How does what work?"

Damian scoffed. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. Your system. My research indicates every part has a role to play. Tell me."

"I don't have to tell you shit."

"Fine." Damian paused a moment, just long enough to retain an air of superiority. "Get out, then."

Drake practically growled at that.

"Or…."

Tim rolled his eyes and left.

Damian huffed and returned to his meditation.

The next day, he cornered Tim in the Cave and demanded a spar. "So," he said, once his bokken was pressed neatly under Tim's chin. "Roles."

"Why do you want to know?" Tim's eyes narrowed and his hands twitched in a way that told the boy he soon would be dealing with someone very much not Tim, for all his efforts otherwise.

So he sighed and put away the weapon. "Because my role as Robin is to protect this family. Obviously, your alters," he spat the word, "are included in those duties."

Tim glared and threw down his bo, stalking away toward the stairs, hands still shaking. "Fuck off, Damian."

Damian threw his hands in the air in frustration. Pah! And Grayson thought being honest would help. Whatever, it was a setback, but it would not deter him.

He waited a week and a day this time, just long enough to get Drake's guard down, before cornering him in the library. "Well?" he demanded.

Just as his target turned around, Damian realized he had made a mistake. "Oh, hey, Damian," Sam said.

Damian's eyes narrowed. "I want to talk to Drake."

"Sorry," Sam said, seemingly genuinely apologetic. "We don't actually have that much control over who fronts when. Maybe if JJ was out, he could switch back, but in the meantime, I can take a message."

Damian huffed and stalked away, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

The next time, he waited until he was sure it was Drake fronting, and walked up to him, barely being courteous enough to leave numerable escape routes. "I want to know."

Tim cried out in frustration and pushed him away. "Why? Why do you want me to talk about the worst parts of my life - which I barely even remember! - when you know very well, you can just read Bruce's file! Do you want me to ask you about your time with the League?"

Damian's eyes narrowed, but he made sure to speak evenly, lowly, at that. "I actually do wish someone would take an interest, but, very well. I will go find Father's file - which," he paused, "I had no idea existed, since it is completely separate from your own."

Tim groaned and rubbed his hands down his face, and Damian knew the conversation was over.

He turned to leave.

"Wait." Tim took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I don't… actually hate you. And if you want to talk… any one of us will listen."

Damian turned back, shocked, but gathered himself enough to nod once in acknowledgment.

"And the file is labeled Schuttmann Family. S-C-H-U-two Ts-M-A-two Ns. I'll link it back to mine the next time I'm down there."

Damian shook his head. "I will do it." He thought Drake almost looked grateful as he left, and he wondered what exactly it was he would soon read.


	3. Tim II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is a good dad.

Bruce looked up with a sigh as Damian slapped an official-looking document on his desk at the Batcomputer. "What is this?"

"A request to exhume the graves of Jack and Janet Drake so I may visit unspeakable horrors upon their corpses."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "And how does Tim feel about this?"

Damian clicked his tongue and scoffed. "The imbecile clearly suffers from something akin to Stockholm Syndrome. If it wasn't a waste of effort, I would cure him of it first. Now, my request, I assume you will approve it, being the man you are."

Bruce shook his head. "No, Damian. Things aren't as cut-and-dry as they appear on a report. For years, Tim thought his neglect was normal, that Chloe and Ben and, eventually, Sam were just imaginary friends. It wasn't until he was diagnosed and I had him read some case files, he realized it was criminal, at best. He still loves his parents, and somewhere in his head, he still believes they loved him. Approving this," he tapped the paper, "would do more harm than good, as much as I'd like to."

Damian snatched the document away, sneering. "This is merely a formality."

"Do you really want to hurt Tim?" Bruce asked, as bluntly as possible. "Do you really want to cause him significant emotional distress that may compromise his efficiency in the field?"

"He'll get over it."

"Damian. Put yourself in his place for a moment."

Damian snarled and tore the paper to shreds before stalking up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bruce called after him.

Damian ignored him, taking a detour to his room to grab a pillow, blanket, and Alfred, before crossing the hall and barging into Tim's room.

The young man rolled over sharply, ready to confront a threat.

Damian plopped Alfred down in his lap before throwing his pillow to the head of the bed and falling onto it dramatically, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. "I require comfort."

"Okay?" Tim's hands settled hesitantly, one on the cat, one between Damian's shoulder blades. "What happened?"

"Father," Damian spat.

"Oh," Tim relaxed. "I can understand that. Do you - Do you want to spend the night?"

Damian scowled, thinking. "That is acceptable," he finally said, rolling onto his side to face his brother.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not particularly."

"Okay." Tim reached for his laptop. "How about a movie?" He began scrolling through his NetFlix list, when Damian stopped him.

"What is that?" he demanded.

Tim choked. "You've never seen Back to the Future? It's iconic! Look!" He stretched out his sleep shirt, which read 'I Was There' in the same font as the movie's title, a date and time listed below. "We're fixing that tonight. This is one of Sam's favorite movies, too, though, he might be content co-con, or he might come out to front in the middle."

"Fine." Damian scooted closer so his head rested on Tim's elbow. "We'll see if it's as good as you say."

Tim spluttered and played the movie, leaning back and digging his fingers into Alfred's fur. "I actually used to have an introject Doc Brown, we think," he started rambling. "But if I did, he integrated a few months after I first became Robin, right around when I got my diagnosis."

Damian ignored him in favor of the movie, making himself comfortable. This acquaintanceship was comfortable, he mused, perhaps a friendship was not undesirable.


	4. Sam I +Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time isn't half bad.

Damian shifted the bowl of popcorn in his lap and leaned forward as Han Solo kicked Boba Fett into the Sarlacc Pit. "The bounty hunter did not deserve such an ignoble end. He works for money, does he not? He could be useful further into their quest."

Sam laughed. "He's not actually dead if you read the Legends. He crawls out of the Pit and goes on to have his own criminal empire."

"Like Todd."

Sam laughed so hard soda spurted out his nose. "Oh, my God, yes! Jason is totally Boba Fett!" He reached for the napkins Alfred had provided. "Who would Dick be?"

Damian thought for a moment. "Which character is the most overly affectionate and incessantly annoying?"

"Luke."

Damian's nose wrinkled in distaste. "I dislike Grayson as the protagonist."

Sam chuckled.

"You would be Solo, Chloe would be…."

"Padme, or maybe Shmi," Sam said. "They're in the prequels, we'll have to watch those next."

Damian nodded. "JJ, I believe, would be Princess Organa, as she is brash, but not without reason, and Drake…." He steepled his fingers as he thought.

"Tim wants to be Ewan McGregor's Obi-Wan. And your dad is totally Mace Windu."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Right, right, no more prequel references, I promise." Sam smiled and his face morphed into the vacant expression of a switch.

A moment later, Tim shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "Sorry, this is my favorite part, I know you were having fun with Sam."

Damian scoffed. "I don't care."

Tim's brow furrowed and his eyes flickered left and right as they often did when he was deep in a discussion with one of his alters.

Damian huffed. "I didn't mean I do not care who I spend time with," he bit out. "I meant I do not care that you come out to enjoy things you like."

Tim was silent for a moment before puffing out a laugh. "Mind."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"You don't  _mind._ "

"What's the difference?" He should have known better than to ask, because in seconds, Tim's phone was in his hand, and he was searching.

"Sometimes, it's contextual," the older boy explained, obviously paraphrasing whatever he was reading, "but usually, the difference is pretty substantive. 'I don't care' is total dismissal, and pretty rude, 'I don't mind' is an acknowledgement that whatever is happening or happened won't cause any distress or disturbance. You didn't learn this in ninja school?" he teased.

Damian crossed his arms and seated himself deeper in the cushions. "Certain things can only be learned through immersion," he said. "English will never be my first language."

Tim nodded. "I hear that."

Damian turned to him in shock. "You-?"

"My first language is Chinese." Tim waved a hand in the air. "My dad's a third generation immigrant and my mom was convinced Chinese was the business language of the future. I still have some biological family in Hangzhou, but I've never met them. I'm closer to bilingual, though, they taught me Chinese first, and I retained it, but once I started learning English at five, I was expected to only speak English. I got my daily Chinese in speaking with the neighbors' housekeeper and her family."

Damian squinted at Tim's face, picking out his more ethnic features. "That was not in your file."

Tim shrugged. "Yeah, I look pretty white, and my great-granddad anglicized our last name pretty good."

"What was your original surname?"

Tim frowned as he searched his memory. "Tseng?"

Damian choked on his popcorn. "How? How do you get Drake out of Tseng?"

"Well, T is kind of like D, and you have the compound at the beginning, and then G is just a voiced K." Tim threw his hands up in the air and threw popcorn at his brother's face. "Shut up, I don't know, maybe  _Zēngzŭfù_  just really liked dragons."

Damian laughed before he could stop himself, and then Drake was laughing along with him. It felt good.

The next night, during patrol, Red Hood was being his usual annoying self, and after one too many encounters with the gun-toting vigilante, Damian felt his patience snap. "I do not take orders from Boba Fett!" he screeched.

The entire comm line went dead silent and Damian felt the heat rising in his cheeks, then Drake cackled and wheezed. "You can't say stuff like that while I'm mid-swing, _Dìdì_!" he laughed.

Damian huffed and stomped his foot, beating a tactical retreat back to the manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zēngzŭfù - great-grandfather  
> Dìdì - little brother


	5. Tim III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food fights tend to get out of control in the Batfamily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, ages for this story are Rebirth, so Tim is 16 and Damian is 13.

Damian sighed, sitting on the stairs, waiting for the yelling to stop. "You don't want to go down there," he said, feeling a presence behind him.

Tim stopped and sat next to him, wincing at the sound of a crash. He sighed. "Usually, if I head down there, they'll stop. Bruce still thinks JJ is… well, not good."

"Father is ignorant. Clearly, he is not the World's Greatest Detective."

Tim laughed. "Who is, then?"

Damian frowned, thinking hard. "Gordon." He waved his hand in the air. "Oracle."

Tim nodded. "I can agree with you there."

A third voice joined the two already shouting, and the noise grew louder.

Damian glanced down at Tim's hands, then stood, brushing imaginary dirt off his knees. "I believe we should vacate."

Tim nodded. "Yeah." He tilted his head, listening. "Ice cream?"

Damian grinned, holding up a credit card. "Father pays."

Tim laughed, and the two ran for their skateboards.

By the time, they reached their favorite shop, just around the corner from Wayne Tower, they were out of breath and wishing they had remembered jackets. Tim went straight up to the counter, ordering very nearly two scoops of everything, then turned to Damian and grinned slyly. "Since Bruce is buying…."

Damian grinned. "Ten scoops tequila lime, please."

The shopkeeper chuckled, used to Wayne shenanigans, and rushed to fill their order.

Damian glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye, noting how strange he was acting.

Tim caught his glance and made a foul face. "We're too close to the tower, everybody's being quiet." He sighed and grabbed his bowl, heading to the cornermost table. "This is what happens when you base your routine on places instead of times."

"Ah," Damian said. "Silence is… disturbing, then?"

Tim shrugged. "Only when I don't have something else to focus on, but, yeah."

"I see."

Tim paused to shove a bite in his mouth and let it melt. "Anyways, how's school? You're accelerated, right?"

Damian scoffed. "I wish. I already have the equivalent of multiple doctorates through my studies with Mother, and now it is simply going through the boring routine of answering questions I already know so that my schooling is legally recognized in this country."

"Damn," Tim said. "You're what, grade eight?"

Damian nodded sharply.

"Well, three more years and Bruce'll let you drop out of high-school. If you want those doctorates here, you can get your GED then go through an online university at your own pace, I'm sure."

Damian eyed Tim carefully. "You do not wish to further your education?"

Tim winced. "I can't work full time, study full time, and do the other stuff. It's just not happening. I already have the respect of the board, and Bruce has it arranged so that even when you do take over ownership, I'll at least be Chairman, if not co. I honestly don't see the point in stressing myself to the point of a breakdown just so I have a piece of paper that says I'm good at the job I've already proved I'm great at."

"Excellent," Damian corrected. "Do not underestimate yourself."

Tim gave him a look.

"What?"

Tim shook his head. "Nothing, just three months ago, you would've gladly pushed me off a building. I didn't think much of it, but this is getting weird as it settles in."

Damian smirked. "Perhaps my grandfather's admiration for you is genetic."

Tim paled. "God, I hope not. He practically wants me to have his babies."

Damian choked on the ice cream, tilting his head back as he coughed. "What the hell, Drake?"

"You haven't noticed? Ra's is obsessed with me, like in the pervy old man type way." Drake shivered. "Just last year, I'd have called him a pedophile, but I guess I'm the age of consent now."

"That is despicable," Damian spat. "You are still a minor, and he is six - ty years old."

Tim smiled at his near-slip. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I will tell him to leave well enough alone."

"How are you going to get him to listen to you?" Tim asked. "I thought he… well."

Damian shrugged. "You can say it. Grandfather disowned me. Still, I think I can lie to him and say his interest in you is interfering with my own plans. It may be enough."

"What kind of plans?" Tim asked. "Just so we have our story straight."

"You would not know of such plans," Damian pointed out before he lapsed into thought. "Plans for your demise would simply provoke him to attack me and wouldn't fix the actual problem."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Please do not tell your pervy old grandfather to lay off so you can seduce me."

Damian made a face. "I do not think even I could lie that well. I now think of you as a friend and brother, but a romantic or sexual partner is still an abhorrent idea."

"Thank God," Tim mumbled, then paused. "You think of me as a brother now?"

Damian shrugged. "A sibling is simply a friend you are allowed to torture, correct? It wasn't that hard of a leap."

Tim smirked. "Guess so." He flicked his spoon, and suddenly, there was mint chocolate chip in Damian's hair, dripping down his face.

Damian stared in fury, then picked up his own spoon. "You shall pay for that, Drake."

Twenty minutes later, Bruce was called away from his fight with Dick and Jason to pick up his two younger sons and to pay for significant property damage. He sighed as he entered the shop and took note of its state. Oh, well, he had been meaning to buy the place anyways.


	6. Chloe II + ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian does his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one's a little more angsty, but I feel like I did at least manage to end it on a sweet note. :)

"Where is Timothy?" Damian demanded after he hadn't shown up by lunch. "Did he return to San Francisco?"

"I believe he's upstairs in his room," Alfred said, looking worried.

Damian tutted and excused himself, running up the stairs and pushing open Tim's door, barely aware of Titus on his heels.

Tim sat on his bed, knees curled up to his chest and shaking.

Damian blinked in shock at all the tells he was reading. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

"I don't - I don't know who I am," the boy choked out.

Damian scanned him up and down. "Do you know who you're not?"

Sam-JJ-Tim-Chloe shook their head. "Can't tell."

Damian nodded. He closed the door and sat on the side of the bed, giving Titus a discreet hand signal that had the dog diligently patrolling the room. "Titus and I will guard you."

Tim-Chloe-JJ-Sam sobbed and tipped over, resting their forehead on Damian's thigh.

Damian's hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it fall, carding his fingers through their hair, humming some half-remembered melody.

Slowly, they started singing along, body relaxing. " _Shì shàng zhí yǒu mā ma hǎo, méi mā de hái zi xiàng gēn cǎo, lí kāi mā ma de huái bào, xìng fú nǎ lǐ zhǎo_."

Damian kept humming, hiding his shock that they both knew the song.

"Mrs Chang used to sing that when Tim went over."

Damian looked down just in time to see their face go blank.

After a moment, Chloe looked up, exhausted. "Thank you," she murmured.

Damian nodded. "Of course. Should I leave?"

Chloe thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Please stay."

"Allow me to retrieve something first. Titus will stay, I won't be long."

Chloe nodded, and Damian left then returned with his sketchbook and pencil case.

He set himself up against the headboard, and Chloe burrowed into the covers near his elbow. "I've been working on something," he said, flipping through the pages before stopping on a series of sketches - the same face, but different people. He pointed to the upper left corner, soft and smiling, but steel beneath. "That is you. This is Sam," laughing, head thrown back, eyes twinkling, "Timothy," sharp and sad and lonely, "and JJ," brows furrowed, protective, prepared to defend.

Chloe smiled. "Did we ever tell you what we look like?"

Damian shook his head.

"I'm short and slightly chubby, long, wavy brown hair to my waist, dark eyes, Caucasian with a bit of a monolid. Round face, straight nose, thin lips. I'm in my thirties and I have smile lines around my eyes and starting around my mouth."

Damian frowned, turned to the next empty page, and started sketching a few basic shapes before filling in the details. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"That's okay," Chloe said. "You can't know if nobody's told you."

Damian nodded slowly.

"Oh, my ears are a tad more... heart-shaped than that."

"Do you have any piercings?"

"I had a nose ring when I was a young adult, but it closed. My left side," she pointed to her face, "there's a scar about here. No ear piercings, though."

"Tattoos? Freckles?"

"Not on my head." Chloe chuckled. "I have a fire-drake wrapped around my wrist."

Damian tried not to smile and failed. "You look familiar," he said, squinting at the drawing.

"I look like a generic suburban mom," Chloe agreed. "I'm okay with that. Tim needed a mom." She looked up at Damian. "You kind of do, too."

Damian's shoulders drooped. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I do." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "What happened?"

"It's called co-fronting." Chloe frowned. "It's the worst feeling in the world."

"What can I do next time?"

Chloe smiled. "Exactly what you did this time. We're the most vulnerable then. Just keep us safe."

"I can do that," Damian vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is 世 上 只 有 妈 妈 好, a popular Chinese lullaby. The English translations goes like this:
> 
> Mommy is the best in the world  
> With a mom you have the most valuable treasure  
> Jump into your mom's heart  
> And you will find happiness! 
> 
> Mommy is the best in the world  
> Without your mom, you are like a blade of grass  
> Away from your mom's heart  
> Where will you find happiness?
> 
> The verse they sing in this chapter is the second half of the song. I figure songs and lullabies would have been part of Damian's language training, and also one of his few memories of Talia doing an actual mom thing with him. And then, as I said in an earlier chapter, this Tim's first language is Chinese, and when his parents were away, he spent a lot of time with a Chinese family so he could retain it.
> 
> Anyways, I have not abandoned this story! I've just had too many new plot bunnies recently to really work on my WIPs. Hopefully, I'll be back soon. In the meantime, lmk what you think!


	7. JJ I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian finally meets JJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So something I didn't actually explain but is kind of important is the alters' relationships with each other. Chloe (32) and Sam (29) are married. Their biological children are Em (8) and Ben (6, doesn't age). JJ is their adopted son and what's called an age-slider. JJ and Ben are also what's called EP's, meaning (from what I understand) they're the parts of the system that hold memories of the trauma. In this case, Ben would hold memories from Tim's childhood neglect, and JJ would hold memories from the Joker's torture. 
> 
> ***Friendly Reminder: I don't have DID. I've done my research, but I still likely have gotten a few things wrong.***
> 
> Anyways, all of that comes into play a bit in this chapter, and it's easier to explain than to figure out how to go back and edit it into previous ones. (I feel like the timing would be wrong if I inserted another chapter between this and the last one.)
> 
> Last two notes, 'Hush Little Baby' is the song Harley Quinn sings in the flashback in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker, and JJ is really sweet and forgiving, but he takes his role as a protector very seriously (very much like Damian himself) and Chloe, Sam, and Tim have been vouching for Damian for the past several months at this point, so that's why he seems to suddenly shift tone at the end of the chapter. He's running his own tests, puffing up like a cat or owl ("I'm big, don't touch me"), and then analyzing and accepting the results.
> 
> On to the Chapter!!!

Damian sat in the corner of the couch, trying to transfer Sam’s current expression onto his real face – the freckled, sunny one he’d described. If Chloe was meant to be representative of Timothy’s ideal mother, Sam had to be just as much an older brother as he was a father, he mused.

As Sam fiddled with the controller in his hand, he hummed absentmindedly along to the playing CD – a collection of lullabies Chloe and Damian had found in a bookstore one day.

Damian frowned and furiously erased the mouth, the one thing he’d thought would be easy!

Suddenly, Sam’s knuckles went white around the controller.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked, the gentle lyrics soothing his frustration.

_Hush, little baby, don’t say a word  
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird_

“Turn it off.”

That was not Sam.

Damian immediately switched off the CD player, bringing the record to a screeching halt that had probably caused a good deal of damage. He stared at JJ, tense, not seeking to fight, but ready if he had to.

The alter met his gaze, not backing down, even as his avatar on-screen was blown to pieces.

Finally, Damian sighed and flipped to a new page. “What do you look like?”

JJ raised an eyebrow, then sat back, falsely at ease. “Black hair, blue eyes, long face, square jaw,” he reported, clipped, even.

Damian flinched internally at the description. “You sound like both Father and Grayson.”

“Yeah, they weren’t there, so Tim had to improvise. Not that they’re that great, anyway.”

Damian bit back his instinct to defend his father and brother. “I’ve heard what they did to you,” he said, instead. “What Father still does to you. It’s not right.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, but he melted further into the couch cushions and afternoon sunlight, reminding him of Alfred the Cat.

“How old are you?”

“Depends. Right now?” He thought a moment. “Sixteen.”

“Hair texture?”

“Coarse. Curly when it’s long, but I keep it buzzed.” He bit his lip. “Nobody can grab it,” he murmured.

Damian nodded. “Sensible. Skin tone? Eye shape?”

“Light olive, downturned.”

Damian frowned at the term and looked up, though he was already outlining the shape.

JJ shrugged. “I’m going to be a stylist when I’m older – hair, makeup, whole shebang.”

Damian nodded. “I understand a common trend is to shave patterns into ‘buzzed’ hair. Do you have any such?”

“No.” JJ frowned. “I should try it, though.” He stared at Damian a while longer. “You aren’t afraid of me.”

Damian shook his head. “No.”

“You should be.” In a flash, JJ was in his personal space, crowding his sketchbook against his chest.

Damian tapped the end of his pencil on the page, stifling his reaction so it wasn’t there. “Your devotion to keeping your family safe is admirable, but this show is unnecessary and unenjoyable for the both of us. We have the same goal. We are both protectors.”

JJ blinked in shock and retreated back to his corner of the couch. “No one’s noticed that before.”

“That you do not enjoy violence?” Damian shook his head. “Cassandra has. I am not ashamed to admit she told me. She has a far keener eye than I do.” He tutted as he returned to his sketch, erasing the long line JJ’s abrupt movement had caused. “Even she finds it difficult to tell you apart from Timothy when you are acting – that takes some skill, you should be proud – but this is one trait you all have in common. As do I. Like I said, we are both protectors. We will do whatever it takes so others do not have to.”

JJ nodded and picked up his controller, restarting the game. “Thank you.”

Damian dipped his head in respect.

After demolishing Sam’s high score, JJ leaned over to look at Damian’s progress. “I have a café-au-lait spot on my chin,” he said.

Damian quickly traced and retraced several shapes, until JJ nodded with satisfaction.

“You should let me paint your nails,” he said, rather abruptly.

Damian raised an eyebrow.

JJ wrinkled his nose and retreated some. “Mom said to ask, few weeks ago, forget it.”

Damian frowned, then nodded. “Toes only.”

JJ grinned. “I can do a great Robin design.”

“Can you do a cat?”

“I can try.”

Damian huffed. “Very well, it will be easy to hide or remove if it’s not done well.”

JJ made an offended face. “I can’t believe you think I’d let you walk around with poorly done nails.”

Damian snorted. “I’m not exactly your favorite person.”

JJ frowned, then nodded to himself and held out his hand. “Redo, benefit of the doubt. But if you screw this up, you’re through, permanently. Name’s JJ. John Joseph Schuttmann, but don’t ever call me that.”

Damian looked down at the hand, then up at his face before nodding, and grasping his forearm. “Damian. Damian al Ghul Wayne. A pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Fun Fact: Schuttmann is German, meaning "watchman/guard".)


	8. Sam II + Em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's sandwiches and talk of carpetball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp!* Two updates in one day! Say it isn't so!
> 
> (It might be three if I can get my brain in working order. ;) )

Damian walked into the kitchen to see Alfred making dinner as an alter he didn’t recognize took several crayons to a dog-themed coloring book, swinging their legs with concentration.

He frowned and went to retrieve Titus before entering the room. “Hello,” he murmured, taking a seat and one of Alfred’s cookies. He split it in half and offered it over. “Have we met?”

They shook their head and gingerly took the cookie. “JJ talks about you. You’re Damian.”

Damian nodded, rested a hand on Titus’ head. “Do you like dogs? He’s a Great Dane. His name is Titus, what’s yours?”

“Emma.” Her eyes went wide and she crouched down to pet Titus. “Mom and Dad call me Em.”

As if the thought had summoned him, her face went blank, then Sam looked up, grinning widely. “Usually, she has to switch out the instant she meets someone new. Bringing the dog was a good call.”

“She’s shy,” Damian observed casually.

Sam shrugged. “She’s kind of the way Tim was when she first came around. There’s a theory out there that alters represent who the original kid could’ve been, and, well, without diving into gender and personality theory, I think that’s true for her.” He gave Titus one last pat and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jeans. “Jason made a carpetball table. Feel up for a game?”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “How does one play?”

“Very carefully,” Sam joked.

“Dinner first,” Alfred said, handing them both a sandwich. “I have not seen a single one of you eat all day.”

“I ate at school,” Damian grumbled, though he was no fool, so still accepted Alfred’s sandwich. He made a happy noise when he discovered the thin-sliced bread was stuffed full of chickpea, cauliflower, and garlic. He glanced out the corner of his eye to see Sam picking pineapple out of his sandwich.

“She gets it from her mother, I swear,” he muttered.

Alfred chuckled and patted his shoulder. “My apologies, Master Sam. Perhaps next time, I will not be caught off guard. If you both will excuse me now, I have chores that need doing. Do enjoy your game.”

“What is carpetball?” Damian asked.

Sam grinned. “It’s like a mix of bowling and billiards. You’ll like it. You get to hit things with extreme force, but it still requires strategy, and there’s only a slight danger of bodily harm. Basically, you get five balls, and you have to arrange them on your side of the table, then use the cue ball to knock your opponent’s balls into the pocket on their side. Last one standing wins. There’s a bit more to it, pretty much just pool rules. If you make a hit, it’s still your turn, if not, it’s the other person’s. That kind of thing. Oh, and loser gets one last turn. Ties are settled with one ball. Instant death.”

Damian grinned. “It sounds a most excellent game. I am confident I shall win.”

“Hah! You wish!”

“Please, you cannot even finish your meal in a timely manner! How do you expect to defeat me when actual talent is needed?”

“Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong.” Sam suddenly paused and rolled his eyes.

Damian cackled. “Chloe agrees with me, doesn’t she?”

Sam blinked in shock. “How did you-?”

“Please.” Damian waved a hand in the air. “That’s your Yes Dear Face.”

“I have a Yes Dear Face?” Sam scrubbed at his jaw, still grinning. “Damn, you’re good.”

“I spend a great deal of time around all of you, of course I should be. Now, quickly, finish your sandwich so I may demolish you.”

Damian did not, in fact, demolish him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, carpetball is amazing and a lot harder than it looks. And I have two personal headcanons: 1) Jason likes carpentry, 2) Damian gets a hell of a lot more 'eloquent' the more competitive he's being. XD
> 
> (BTW, Sam's sandwich is a Tropical Ham, which is pumpernickel, pineapple, ham, mozzarella, basil, and olive oil. I haven't tried this, because I'm actually allergic to pineapple, but I'm told it's surprisingly good. Damian's is something I pulled out of my head, loosely based off common Arabic foods, that sounds only about halfway delicious to me, but, hey, I've definitely eaten weirder, maybe he just has strange taste. I still maintain the best sandwich ever was the deep-fried fish (idk what kind) with some kind of tartar(?) sauce minus the pickles on toasted raisin bread that I had in Bermuda. That thing is the single best culinary experience I have ever tasted. if you ever go to King's Wharf, it's the Bermy-Style Fish Sandwich on The Anchor's Bar Menu.)
> 
> Also, one last thing, for some reason, Sam sounds like Alan Tudyk in my head. (Chloe sounds like my mom, idk who the others sound like.)


	9. JJ II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an important anniversary, but not a pleasant one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, this time, but also three updates in a row, so I'm calling it good. ;P

Damian laid on his back, flinching every so often at the subtlest of sounds and movements.

Outside his door, Titus whined, and then the door opened.

Damian sighed and closed his eyes, wishing whoever it was would go away.

“Brought food,” JJ said. “What’s up?”

Damian sighed. “I – I died today. A year ago. Hurts,” he mumbled, finally giving into the urge to rub at the scar just beneath his sternum.

JJ set the dinner tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t glad you were gone, but I was glad you couldn’t hurt Tim anymore.”

Damian gave a dry laugh.

“Then he started hallucinating you everywhere, and apparently, it’s better when you’re here.”

“Because we’re brothers,” Damian whispered. He struggled, but eventually got himself propped up against the headboard with a pillow. “I compartmentalized the pain from the arrows and knives and lacerations. When he stabbed me through the chest, I went into shock. I don’t think I realized I was suffocating until it was already too late. I forgive him. And mother. But I can’t forget. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Hell no,” JJ said, grabbing him firmly, reassuringly by the ankle. “We both know you’ve done a ton of crap that could qualify as being a bad person. Protecting yourself isn’t one of those things.” He glanced down at Damian’s toes. “Your nail polish is chipped.”

Damian snorted. “A life of vigilante-ing isn’t exactly conducive to keeping up with beauty standards.”

JJ stood. “I’m going to redo your toes. I’ve been practicing a Red Robin design, and you can’t stop me right now.”

“Yes, take advantage of the invalid.”

JJ laughed. “You should let me do a French manicure, too. Your fingers, but it won’t look much different, just cleaner.”

“I’d like that,” Damian murmured. “I – I need to feel clean.”

“Cool.” JJ pointed at the sandwich on the end table. “Eat that while I get my stuff. If you can sit still long enough, I can also do a mean smoky eye, and I think I have a natural shade of lipstick that would go well with your skin tone. Can’t say much for foundation or concealer, but you don’t really need it.” He grinned. “I can’t wait until you break out like the rest of us mortals. Anyways, I’ll pretty you up, and then Alfred’s already making your favorites for dinner, and I’m pretty sure we can guilt Dick into letting you choose the movie tonight. Something tame.” He waved a hand in the air. “Or not, whatever you’re up for. I’ve gotten fairly intimate with traumatic memories over the years, and rest and TLC should help. Kosher?”

“Hell, no,” Damian said hesitantly, making sure the words felt right in his mouth. “Pennyworth messes up the spices every time, and he just plain ruins the kunafeh. Tell him to make my favorite _American_ food.”

JJ snickered. “You’re the boss,” he said as he ran off.

Damian sighed and leaned back, letting his pets jump through the open door and into his lap. Perhaps today wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, btw, kunafeh is a type of Arabic dessert that's kind of like a cheesecake/danish thing and really good.


	10. JJ III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JJ makes another friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding a new chapter because why not I guess :D Thank you all for the love you've given this fic recently.

“So,” JJ said, looking all around, “this is your evil lair?”

Damian snorted. “I wish. I have to share it with Superman’s son. He’s not bad when you get to know him, but all the same, he’s far too optimistic and naive. Speaking of, he’ll be here soon. If you don’t want to deal with him, we should probably at least try to find what we need sooner rather than later.”

JJ rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “Mom said I should make more friends.”

Damian stared at him. “With Superboy?”

JJ shrugged. “If he really is that optimistic and naïve, he’s probably not going to assume I’m... you know.”

“Evil?”

JJ nodded.

Damian stared a bit longer, then shrugged. “Very well. I guess there’s just no accounting for taste.”

JJ nodded again, then caught himself. “Hey!”

Damian cackled, then gave a triumphant shout, unearthing a USB drive and a mess of wires. “Got it.”

“I’m back!” Jon sped into the room, grinning. “Do we have a mission today?” He turned to JJ. “Oh, hey, Tim.”

JJ glanced at Damian.

Damian shrugged.

JJ took a deep breath. “I’m not Tim.”

Jon looked him up and down as he perched on the nearby counter. “Shapeshifter?”

“No.”

“Clone?”

“No.”

“Possession?”

“No,” Damian and JJ snapped in unison.

Jon shrank in on himself and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” He thought a moment. “Long-lost twin?”

Damian groaned.

Jon shrugged. “I give up. Why do you look so much like Tim? Wait. Are you just messing with me?”

JJ sighed and turned to Damian. “I see what you mean.”

Damian raised an eyebrow and nodded pointedly. “Jon,” he said, deciding to take pity on the poor boy, “what do you know about...,” he winced, “multiple personality disorder?”

“Is that the one where you’re a whole bunch of different people at once?”

“Yes!” JJ shouted, relieved. “Yes, that’s it! It’s actually called Dissociative Identity Disorder now, but yes.”

“Cool!” Jon bounded closer. “So like, sometimes you’re Tim, but right now you’re...?”

“JJ.” JJ held out a hand.

Jon shook it exuberantly.

“And actually, I’m always JJ, just sometimes Tim is the one in control.”

“Oooooooh!” Jon said, still shaking the hand. “That makes more sense. Is there anyone else?”

“Yeah.” JJ pulled his hand away. “Um... The reason I wanted to meet you...,” he glanced at Damian again.

Damian rolled his eyes.

JJ huffed. “A lot of the time, I’m a different age than whatever I was before, but lately I’ve been fourteen or thirteen a lot. There aren’t a lot of kids to hang out with that are my age.”

“You can hang out with Damian and me!”

“I actually already hang out with Damian a lot.”

“You can hang out with me!”

“Okay,” JJ said. “Just... um... text me, I guess? If I’m fronting, I’ll text back. If I’m not, someone will let you know, I guess.”

Jon nodded, doing a half-decent impression of a bobblehead figurine.

“Damian... will text you my number?” JJ turned to Damian.

Damian turned to Jon and deadpanned “Damian will text you his number.”

Jon laughed. “See! I told you you can be funny!”

“We should leave,” Damian said. “Pennyworth will have dinner ready soon.”

“Oh, okay.” Jon waved as Damian herded JJ toward the door. “Bye, Dami! Bye, JJ!”

“Oh, Jon,” JJ said, turning quickly. “Please don’t tell anyone okay?”

Jon glanced between JJ and Damian. “Is this a Batfamily Secret?”

“Kind of,” JJ said. “It’s just to keep us all safe. There’s a lot of people who won’t understand or want to understand.”

“Okay.” Jon mimed zipping his lips. “I won’t tell. Not even my mom. I’ll text you soon, okay? Enjoy your dinner!”

Damian dragged JJ into the submarine. “You understand what I mean?”

JJ nodded, wide-eyed. “How in the world can anyone be that happy all the time? It’s not natural.”

“To be fair,” Damian sighed, “he’s not always that happy. Just most of the time.”

“Most of the time,” JJ echoed, running a hand through his hair. “What did I sign myself up for?”

Damian sighed again and gritted his teeth. “He’s... not a...  _bad..._  friend to have.”

JJ smirked. “Did that hurt?”

“Shut it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, that is the first time since Bruce that JJ has voluntarily told anyone that he's not Tim.
> 
> Please review, or [come yell at me on Tumblr!](grumpymurdernerd.tumblr.com) (Or both, that works, too. XD )


	11. Ben I + JJ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this chapter wouldn't fucking end. 
> 
> **Warning:** There is a brief description of a part of Tim's childhood abuse - physical, mental, and emotional.
> 
> Again, I do not have DID, I probably got at least some things wrong, and you should always, _always_ , _**always**_ listen to the voices of actual systems over mine.
> 
> I do have an idea for the next chapter ~~(*cough*damijon*cough*)~~ but we'll see what happens. :)

Usually, Ben ignored the phone. It was good for watching movies, but if he was out, he was probably just at home and could use the theater on the second floor. He still looked at it whenever a text came in, just to make sure it wasn’t an emergency and Tim didn’t need to front. So when he saw that Jon had texted, he skimmed it just in case.

**Jon Kent (JJ):** _Sorry, I can’t hang out tomorrow like we planned. Grounded. :/_

Ben’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet, running for the one person he knew would help. “Damian!” he yelled, grabbing his sleeve and pulling. “We have to save Jon!”

“What?” Damian asked, putting down his paints and reaching for his sword.

“We have to save Jon! Come on!”

The two were on Tim’s bike and headed for Metropolis in record time.

“He’s at his house,” Ben said. “You have to hurry, they’re hurting him!”

Damian sped up, going far, far over the speed limit. “Who?”

“His parents!”

“Have they been brainwashed?”

“I hope so. I really thought they were nice.”

Damian glanced over his shoulder as he swerved between lanes. “Ben?”

“Yes?”

Damian frowned. “Chloe said you were shy.”

“Well, yeah, but this is an emergency! First, they’re going to hurt him, then they’re not going to let him eat or drink, and then they’re not gonna let him out of his room even if he has to go to the bathroom, and then they’re gonna get mad at him for making a mess and do it all over again!”

Damian slowed down and pulled over on the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” Ben yelled, tugging on his sleeve. “We have to save Jon!”

“Ben,” Damian said softly, “what did Jon say?”

“He said he was grounded. We have to go now!”

“And all those things you just said, is that what the Drakes did to you and Tim when they grounded him?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay.” Damian sighed. “I wish Grayson were here,” he mumbled. “I am not qualified for this. Ben, that’s not what grounding is. That’s abuse. People go to jail for that - well, they do when they get caught. What Jon means is that he’s not allowed to do fun things. School, homework, chores, meals, and bathroom, that’s it. But his parents are still going to feed him and let him bathe and use the toilet, and they’re not going to hit him. If you don’t believe me, ask any of the others.”

Ben stared, disbelieving.

Damian sighed. “We can go check on him, but he’s not in any danger.”

“Okay,” Ben said quietly, thinking hard.

It took them another half hour to make it to the city. Damian pulled up outside the apartment building and quickly scaled the fire escape, helping Ben along the way. Once he was at the window, he rapped sharply thrice.

Jon eased open the window as quietly as possible. “Dude, my dad’s going to hear you.”

Damian jabbed a thumb at Ben. “JJ needs to know what being grounded is.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what being grounded is? Lucky. I think it’s like you know how pilots get grounded and they’re not allowed to fly? It’s like that. Kids get grounded and they’re not allowed to hang out with other kids. Unless it’s for school.”

“That’s it?” Ben asked, wringing his hands in concern.

Jon nodded. “Yeah, just that. Why?”

Damian shook his head, giving Jon a warning glance. “I’ll explain later. We’ll leave you to your homework.”

Ben was quiet on the drive back to Gotham. Once they were back in the Cave, he bit his lip, turning his helmet over and over in his hands.

“What is it?” Damian asked. “We made sure he’s safe.”

Ben flinched. “I know. I just….” He looked up. “Why did bad things happen to us?”

Damian sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes people are evil.”

“Not you. You’d be a good dad.”

Damian laughed and sat down on a nearby crate, gesturing for Ben to do the same. “I’m only eight years older than you.”

“Yeah!” Ben said. “That’s practically a grown up!”

Damian sighed. “My mother and grandfather were like the Drakes. And Father is… he sometimes doesn’t know what to do with me.”

“But he’s Batman.”

Damian shrugged. “Even Batman makes mistakes.” He rubbed his face. “I was one of them.” He looked up, thinking hard. “I’ll tell you a secret. You must never tell a single soul. Can you do that?”

Ben nodded.

“Todd slept with my mother around the time I was conceived. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he were my father and if – and if he raised me.” Damian shook his head and leaned back. “I would prefer Grayson, to be honest, but for all his…,” he bit back the word on his tongue, “… him-ness, it’s very unlikely. But even though Todd has his issues, he would never mistreat a child.”

Ben nodded slowly, seemingly digesting the information given to him. “Jason had sex with your mom?”

Damian stared in shock.

Ben laughed and sat down next to him. “I’m not just six, remember?”

“Right,” Damian huffed. “I knew that. You know, you’re a lot less shy than your sister.”

Ben leaned over and rested his head on Damian’s shoulder, yawning. “I thought it was an emergency. Can I switch with JJ now?”

“You don’t have to ask my permission.”

Ben hummed and stared off in the direction of the bike.

JJ sat up, scooting a little further away. “Thanks,” he said, glancing from side to side. “Mom’s got Ben now, she’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Are you?” Damian asked.

JJ shrugged. “I only have memories from the Joker.”

“That’s not an answer.”

JJ sighed and pulled one leg up to his chest, perching his chin on his knee. “I think,” he said eventually, “Ben’s panic did a number on all of us. It would’ve been much better if he had let me explain things to him at the beginning. But I’m glad he felt safe going to you.”

Damian nodded.

“How did you know I was co-con?”

“What?”

“When you said ‘JJ needs to know’, you looked at us, but not like you were looking at Ben.”

Damian shrugged. “It wasn’t hard to deduce. He was in distress and you’re the protector.” He stood and stretched. “I’ll send some links to Jon, the baseline of how and why Dissociative Identity Disorder works. Should I tell him to direct any questions to you or his parents or…?”

JJ shook his head. “I still don’t want his parents knowing. Adults are….” He wobbled his hand in the air. “He can ask any of us.”

Damian nodded. “Cheese Vikings?”

“Sure, if you wanna spend the rest of the day with Sam.”

“I don’t mind either way. What do you want to do?”

JJ grinned. “You said ‘mind’.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but he smiled back. “What do you want to do?”

“Do you want to finish your painting? I’ll just watch.”

“I’ll meet you upstairs. You should stop by the kitchen to bring snacks.”

JJ nodded, moving toward the elevator. “I’ll switch your ‘paint water’ and ‘not paint water’ cups while I’m at it.”

“What?” Damian demanded. He whirled around and gave chase. “Don’t you dare!”

JJ laughed and ran.

**Author's Note:**

> @DC: LET DAMIAN GROW AS A PERSON, DAMMIT!


End file.
